


Lower Case B

by Gedry



Series: Alphabet Soup [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M, Major character death...sorta for a minute.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gedry/pseuds/Gedry
Summary: final installment of Alphabet Soup.





	Lower Case B

**Author's Note:**

> Not totally happy with this. But I had the ending and needed to get it out of my noggin.

“She’s a baby,” Foggy announces. There’s a lawyer's finality in his voice. Not a debatable issue. 

 

“It’s a weapon,” Stick’s blunt as always, but there’s something in his tone, his aura. He’s uncertain. “Dangerous.” 

 

“Black Sky,” Matt clarifies. “You killed the last one. Why not her too?”

 

Rage. White and hot rolls over the link between he and Foggy. “You killed a baby?! You absolute fucker!” Foggy burns so brightly when he’s upset. 

 

“He was tainted.” Stick argues. But uncharacteristically he goes on to add. “Too far gone to save. This one….it’s not. There’s still good there. I couldn’t do it.” 

 

He sounds so disappointed in himself. Like that fact that he couldn’t kill an infant is a bad thing. Matt wonders, not for the first time, about his mess of an upbringing. “So you brought her here? Why?”

 

“You never listen to a damn thing I say,” Stick snorts. “I warned you about making connections with people. How they taint you. How they’re going to get you killed. Look at what happened. You get yourself a life, find yourself a mate. You weakness infected me right along with you. and here we are.” 

 

“This is in no way my fault,” Matt barks. He’s loud. The baby whimpers. Foggy is suddenly a shield between Matt and Stick. 

 

“She’s hungry,” Foggy announces. “We need supplies.”

 

“I’ll go,” Matt turns to the door feeling like he’s going to drown in the pressure of this moment. His normal life flushing down the toilet. 

 

“You will not,” Foggy snaps before turning to Stick. “You’re the one dumping the baby. You go get the supplies.” Matt’s senses tell him Stick opens his mouth to argue. “Don’t even try it,” Foggy snaps. “This is your mess, Old Man. You dragged us into it. You buy the diapers. Figure it out, you’re resourceful.” 

 

Stick is very still for a long moment and Matt feels a trickle of fear roll down his spine. If Stick touches Foggy… But then the older man shrugs and walks around them both and out the door. 

 

The door shuts and Foggy sighs. The baby in his arms burbling happily at him while she tugs on a lock of his hair. “She smells terrible.”

 

That shocks a laugh out of Matt. “I’m sure we can fix that with a bath.”

 

“That’s not what I mean,” Foggy explains. “And if I can smell it, I know you can. She smells….”

 

“Wrong,” Matt offers. “I know.” He just doesn't know what it means. 

 

She’s more shadows than light to Matt’s senses. It’s hard for him to read on her. Matt experiences her more through her interactions with Foggy than just as herself. He has no idea what she actually is. It’s frightening. Sad. “What are we going to do with her?”

 

Matt had never realized before the bond made him able to see Foggy clearly how often his mate looked at him like he was an idiot. 

 

“We’re going to feed her, bathe her, put her down to sleep, and then probably choke the shit out of Stick for dumping her on us,” Foggy sounds certain, sure of himself. Matt’s a little turned on. It must flow across their link because Foggy chuckles and then bumps into him. “Maybe later,” he offers and Matt can’t help leaning into him and inhaling his mate’s scent. 

 

“Do we call the police?” Foggy asks. The baby cuddling into his chest like she knows she belongs there and Matt feels it, a longing. Foggy’s an omega and there are instincts and urges, and he’s been sterile his whole life and Matt’s not ready to decide if he wants to be a parent right now. He’s just barely settling into being mated. “Is there a like a superhero hotline for abandoned possible weapons of mass destruction in the shape of a baby?” 

 

“I don’t know, Foggy,” Matt whispers as she reaches out and curls a hand around his finger. He’s not talking about the police or the hotline. They both know it. Matt’s relieved when what he gets across the link is gratitude from Foggy. 

 

“This is going to be complicated.” 

 

*****

 

He’s soaked to the bone. Dripping and frustrated. It’s been three months. Matt thought he would have it all together by now. “How is it I can take down a herd of bad guys but I can’t give one baby a bath without it looking like a tsunami hit the bathroom?” 

 

Foggy laughs. His glee wrapping around Matt’s soul like a warm, dry towel. Soft and snuggly. “She’s a handful.” 

 

Matt looks down at the squirming bundle of trouble he’s currently trying to squeeze into pajamas. She’s less of a mystery to his senses now. Her aura no longer black but a deep bluish purple. Like nothing Matt’s ever experienced. There are bright flashes of greens and occasionally pink but nothing like what he normally reads. Foggy is a beacon of white and blue fire in his world. Guiding Matt home. Their daughter. Yes, because that’s what she is, is like what he remembers the night sky to resemble. “B. Hold still.” 

 

It’s a fight he loses as soon as Foggy enters the room. Barbara slipping onto the floor to crawl toward his mate blurbling and happy. “That’s my girl!” Foggy announces as he scoops her up. It’s as true as Matt’s love for him. Barbara likes Matt. She seems to sense there is something different about him though. They’ve had to work on being comfortable together. But Foggy has always been her mainstay. Her colors change, lighten, and expand the second she senses him coming or sees him in a room. She couldn’t belong more to his mate if Foggy had birthed her. 

 

Matt’s content with that. His family. 

 

“We should put her down soon,” He offers. “Before she gets fussy.”

 

“You mean before you do,” Foggy teases as he passes by. He drops a sweet kiss to the corner of Matt’s mouth on his way to what used to be his bedroom. Now Barbara sleeps tucked away surrounded by Foggy’s scent in that same space. Matt’s good with it. He sleeps curled up in Foggy’s arms. 

 

Still though, there’s a kernel of truth in what Foggy is saying. Having a baby has squashed their alone time and Matt’s been eager to grab Foggy’s attention. More so than normal for the past week. He’s not really sure why. 

 

“How was the gym?” He asks as Foggy bounces their girl in his arms. 

 

“Same as always,” Foggy snorts. He’s sore, tired. Matt can feel it across their link. He always is when he comes home from what they affectionately call his workouts. “Grandpa beat the hell out of me and Karen and told us we need to be more like Claire.”

 

Matt snorts. 

 

“You’re doing great,” He offers. 

 

“Says you,” Foggy sighs as he leaves the room. Matt catches a trickle of anxiety. 

 

Ten minutes later when he slips quietly out of Barbara’s room Matt hugs him and whispers “Says Stick. He’s proud of you. Last time we patrolled together he told me he’s never seen an omega fight so hard.” 

 

“He’s never seen an omega period,” Foggy argues. “I’m in training to learn how to protect my child if these mysterious bad guys come to get her. Of course I’m working hard. What parent wouldn’t?” 

 

Matt’s mind flashes to his mother for a moment. It’s a thought quickly pushed away. But Foggy feels it through the bond and gathers him up face tucked into the hollow of Foggy’s throat. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Foggy whispers. “I’m sorry.” 

 

Matt presses closer. “It’s ok. I’m ok.” 

 

They spend long moments with Matt nuzzling along their bond mark while Foggy traces the scar of his own teeth left on Matt’s skin. “You’re going into rut,” Foggy announces. 

 

Matt’s stomach clenches. That would explain a lot of his weird urges recently. The increased patrols, the jealousy about how much of Foggy’s time the baby takes up. “What are we going to do?” 

 

Foggy snorts. “Well, my dashing duck of a mate. We are going to fuck. A lot.” 

 

Matt tickles him until Foggy bats him away laughing. “I’m serious!” 

 

“Karen and Claire have offered to take B for the duration. Stick is going to handle the vigilantism. I have this all planned out.” and yeah, Matt enjoys the way Foggy smiles when his mate feels the gratitude sliding across their link. Foggy’s the best. 

 

“We’re calling her B now?” Matt teases. 

 

“Lower case B,” Foggy clarifies. “Naming her after my grandmother was an awesome suggestion. But Barbara is mouthful and my grandmother always just went by B. A. Nelson.”

 

“Bad Ass?” Matt offers with a grin.

 

“Barbara Ann,” Foggy laughs. “But she would have claimed your suggestion.”

 

“Why not Capital B?” Matt’s curious. 

 

“She’s a kid,” Foggy shrugs. “She has to grow strong into her capital letter status.” 

 

Matt’s still smiling when he’s back from his run on the criminal underworld later that night. He stops by her room to watch her sleep. His senses drinking in the movement of her little body as she breathes. 

 

They can’t have her. They won’t ever touch her.

 

Lower case B for beautiful. 

 

*****

Matt’s burning up from the inside out and Foggy…..Foggy keeps lighting matches everywhere he touches. 

 

“Please,” Matt gasps as his mate thrusts into him. Foggy’s dick dragging across his prostate in a slow drag. It’s a tease and a promise and Matt needs release. It’s not a game anymore. 

 

He whines in distress and Foggy grabs his hair before slamming inside him and setting up a brutal, amazingly satisfying rhythm. “Fuck, yes,” Matt snarls as his mate holds him still and takes him. The build up making all his muscles clench, his eyes water, and his arms shake. 

 

Then it all clicks into place and Matt’s coming all over the couch Foggy has him bent over while he screams. Foggy gasping and clutching his hips as he comes as well. 

 

It’s been three days. Matt’s exhausted. Foggy’s exhausted. Matt’s sore everywhere. Foggy must have better stamina than Matt thought because his omega is in relatively good form. Just thinking about it makes his dick twitch. 

 

“No,” Foggy commands as he heads off to start the shower. “No more for at least an hour. Two if you can help it.” 

 

“You mean days,” Matt groans as he eases down onto the sofa. “Please say you mean days.” 

 

He doesn’t. They only make it 45 minutes. Matt’s rut goes on for another day and a half before it’s done. 

 

When B comes home she’s caught hand, foot, and mouth from Karen’s neighbor’s son. 

 

Lower case B for beyond exhausted.

 

*****

By the time she turns three her scent is almost normal.

 

Almost.

 

Foggy never comments on it any more. Matt tries not to notice. Her aura a glow of silver light where the rest of Matt’s world is fire and Foggy the brightest flame. Their daughter growing strong and their problems expanding daily.

 

“I found, another nest last night,” Stick says with finality. There’s a sadness in his voice Matt has been hearing more and more over the last few months. “Took care of it. But they’ll be back.”

 

Matt pretends not to notice Foggy normal, happy, scent darken and sour into fear and anxiety. “That’s the third in three months. They’re getting more determined. Faster.”

 

“What do we do?” Foggy questions as he comes to sit next to Matt on their beat up old sofa. Snuggling in tight to his mate and seeking comfort. “They’re going to find her someday.”

 

“We can leave,” Matt offers with a shrug.

 

“New York?” Foggy questions. “I never thought I would hear you say that.”

 

There are only a few times in his life where Matt remembers wishing beyond anything that he still had his sight. This is one of them. “This is our daughter, Foggy, She means more than everything.” 

 

Foggy’s back straightens. Matt catches the faintest whiff of a scent he only remembers from the night Foggy attacked Stick with a bat. “Then we fight,” Foggy states with certainty. “No running, no more hiding. She’s ours and we make sure they know that.”

 

He gets up then and leaves the room to go and tuck B into bed. Matt senses Stick’s smile as it spreads slow and crooked across his face. “You picked good one, Matty.”

 

“He picked me,” Matt sighs, “I just try to live up to him.”

 

“Bull shit,” Stick snorts. “That complex you have about not deserving nice things is going to get you killed one day.” 

 

Matt rolls his eyes knowing Stick can tell even without his site that Matt is doing it. He chuckles when the older man smacks him up the backside of his head. 

 

“What we’re doing,” Stick mutters as he walks toward the kitchen “Will be a declaration of war.”

 

Matt tries hard to ignore how happy Stick sounds about that.

 

They have a lot of planning to do.

 

Lower Case B for bring it on.

 

******

 

The apartment probably wasn’t the best place to stage the confrontation. 

 

In Matt’s defense he was planning on leading them to the gym when he picked the fight. But the roads had been crowded, the air thick with smoke from a building fire he was fairly certain the Hand started. He’d gotten the word his tiny, fierce, family had abandoned the idea of moving positions and stayed put. So Matt had headed home at a somewhat more sedate pace being that he was being chased by what felt like half the army of the Hand.

 

He hoped they were ready.

 

Upon reflection, he shouldn’t have been surprised the fight had started without him. He did think it was only half the Hand army chasing him. Matt had never stopped to wonder where the other half was. 

 

Turns out, they were in his apartment. 

 

He ducks the blade of the first attacker that turns on him from the ongoing swarm of people attacking Stick. Before he can even get fist into the fight the attackers head rolls off his neck and across the floor. Karen balanced on the back of the sofa with a snarl marking her face and blood smeared across her neck. Blade held high and gripped tight, like Stick had taught her. 

 

Matt grins, over the years they’ve prepared. His little family won’t be easy prey. 

 

For what feels like forever it’s an endless sea of attackers. Matt’s getting tired, Stick panting to his left while Karen and Claire trade off in the fight to ease their own exhaustion. The police have surrounded the building. Search lights and sirens messing with Matt’s sensitive senses as he works hard to focus on the next attacker and the next and the next.

 

It doesn’t matter as long as they don’t get past them and open the door. The door to where Foggy and B are waiting. Matt takes a second to turn his focus to his mate’s heartbeat. 

 

His decision is a terrible mistake. 

 

The world tilts with the force of the blast next to Matt’s head. He and Stick dropping to the ground, ears bleeding, bodies numb. Matt can’t get up. He can’t see. He can’t move. 

 

This can’t be happening. 

 

He hears screaming, high and hysterical as he watches Karen and then Claire fall to the soldiers of the Hand. Panic flooding his veins and adrenalin forcing its way into his limbs to no avail. They still won’t move. 

 

Someone grabs the back of his head and drags him forward into the bedroom where Foggy is still fighting. A single Omega, the toughest person Matt has ever met, slaughtering one fighter after another as he stands as the only barrier between evil and their child. Matt sobs when Foggy is overtaken. Heart breaking when he hears the broken gasps that make up his mate’s last breath. 

B never makes a sound. 

 

She watches with a cool detachment as Foggy’s blood seeps from his body and flows across the floor to surround her tiny flower patterned sneakers. She blinks as what must be the General of this army comes toward her and holds out his hand. 

 

“You belong with us,” He whispers to Matt’s daughter. “Finish him and come with us.” 

 

“No,” She murmurs with a small shake of her head.

 

The man steps closer and grabs her arm, shaking her back and forth like a doll. “You will do as I say!” 

 

Matt smells it before the change happens. Her scent lifting, changing, becoming more like Foggy’s safe, home, family, smell. Then light, brilliant, white, light pouring out of their daughter’s normally silver lined soul as she rips her tiny arm from the man’s grasp and bellows in a voice that sounds like a thousand voices together “NO!” 

 

She turns them to dust while Matt kneels in a puddle of blood gasping and grabbing his head from the agony bursting behind his eyes. 

 

The wave of light seems never ending, hot, bright, and painful over and around him. Matt’s not sure when it ends. But he finally collapses toward the floor only to be caught up in familiar arms.

 

“Foggy?” He croaks out grabbing onto his mate and sliding shaking fingers all over Foggy’s body. “You’re dead.”

 

“Not any more,” Foggy whispers as he pulls Matt close and holds him tight, breathing together.

 

Matt blinks, concerned about the weird colors his vision is showing him. Shapes that are hard to define, definition in places where he’s never had it before. He’s confused.

 

“Fuck,” Stick groans from the floor a few feet away. “I can see.”

 

Lower Case B for badass. 

 

******

 

“So what is she now?” Matt question as he watches his daughter run through the grass at the park. 

 

It’s been months of police interviews, and news broadcasters. Plans for a move to have more privacy, and finally intervention from the Avengers to help teach B how to control the nifty healing thing she does. Matt’s not sure he’s ever gone this long without a bruise before in his life. Though having his actual vision has been harder to adjust to than people would think. 

 

“The Chaste always said they had their own weapon against the Dark Sky,” Stick shrugs. “I never knew what they meant. I never asked.” 

 

“So you’re saying she’s still a weapon?” Matt asks again, trying to tamp down his own irritation and anxiety.

 

“She’s four,” Foggy interrupts as he makes his way past the side walk over to where Karen is laughing and chasing B back and forth in the sunlight. “It’s her birthday, and you two are going to quit the gloom and doom until tomorrow.” 

 

“Agreed,” Claire states as he slides in between them on the park bench and watches while Foggy bends down to scoop up their daughter. “Foggy!” Claire yells before he actually manages to get B off the ground “Don’t you dare! She’s past your weight limit.”

 

“His what?” Matt asks as B turns and runs over to him, climbing in his lap.

 

“I’m getting a brother for my birthday,” B says with a big smile, “But Daddy says he’s on an installment plan. I don’t know what that is. I think Daddy’s messing with me.” 

 

Matt’s eyes snap to where Foggy is watching them both from a short distance away. His mate smiles and the faint aura Matt can still see surrounding him glows more brightly. “A brother?” Matt questions, “But you can’t.”

 

“I fixed it,” B says with finality, “Like your eyes.” 

 

Yeah….

 

Lower Case B for Baby.


End file.
